


No, No, No

by RockingItInAParallelUniverse



Series: Songs of The Smiths [4]
Category: Marrissey - Fandom, Morrissey (Musician), Music RPF, The Smiths
Genre: Angst, Liberal use of lyrics, M/M, Poetic, RPF, References to Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Reincarnation, Sad, Soulmates, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-19
Updated: 2019-11-19
Packaged: 2021-02-08 03:27:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21469297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RockingItInAParallelUniverse/pseuds/RockingItInAParallelUniverse
Summary: Morrissey was born an old soul. In previous lifetimes, encounters with his soulmate ended in disaster. He is determined to get it right, eventually.
Relationships: Johnny Marr/Morrissey
Series: Songs of The Smiths [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1499339
Comments: 6
Kudos: 13





	No, No, No

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by - "I Keep Mine Hidden" - the last song The Smiths ever recorded together.
> 
> The premise of this fic is from The Myth Of Aristophenes from Plato's "Symposium" - Human beings were originally one of three genders: Male, descended from the sun, Female, descended from the earth, and Androgynous, descended from the moon. These humans had four legs, four arms and two faces. Males had two sets of male genitalia, females two sets of female genitalia and androgynous had one set of male and one set of female genitalia. The gods were afraid these humans would be too strong and unmotivated so they separated the two halves. This caused humans much pain and they would spend their lives searching for their other half, be it a male or a female. Thus the concept of soulmates was born. For the sake of our tale, determined souls can live multiple lifetimes through reincarnation until they and their soulmate are reunited. Then they can ascend to Paradise. Suicide causes the soul to stop its search and be relegated to Purgatory alone and in pain for an undetermined amount of time.
> 
> This is fiction, all a figment of my imagination. I did use Morrissey's own words (or slight variations of them) whenever possible. Don't sue me, pls.

I thought I had it right this time. Even though I questioned myself as to whether or not this was the right way to go about things, I was determined to stay the course and wait. He would find me. I wouldn't be able to botch our meeting as long as I was isolated. I sat in my room and I drew up a plan. But plans can fall through and this one did. Another lifetime wasted. And people wonder why I'm bitter.

I looked for him in church. I suffered through terrifying sermons of fire and brimstone and the evils of sex without love, sex for pleasure, basically anything sexual. I looked for him in school. He wasn't one of my teachers. They were far too stupid of mind and weak in body. He wasn't any of my classmates. They were cruel and petty. My soulmate is none of those things. I knew he would be male, beautiful, intelligent, kind and artistic. I knew all of this. But I did not share it with anyone. That would be too risky; an open invitation for meddlers to again ruin our reunion as had happened lifetime after lifetime. Last time, I pledged myself to a false soulmate, so sure it was him, so desperate, I projected all his qualities onto an imposter who damned me to another life of pain and animosity. Yet I hold tight to my beliefs.

Reunification is worth suffering through lifetimes of disappointment. Now it appears I've entered another dead end. And it ended so early, but I still hope that maybe... But time is against me now.

He found me. He tracked me down and sought me out. I recognized him as soon as I first gazed into his brown eyes. I kept our connection hidden. He had found me. He would figure it out soon enough. And we were young! We'd get to spend practically this entire lifetime together and would never be separated again. We had so many things in common: musical tastes, film and books, idols and philosophies. We were different, yet the same. He looked at me in wonder. Our connection was real. In this bleak existence, we found each other. But I still said nothing, waiting for him to take the lead, up in my bedroom, just the two of us.

His girlfriend picked me up from the train station for our second meeting. Girlfriend? He was but 18 and I twenty-three. This girlfriend is a fleeting a moment in time compared to the journey of our souls. He will discover, as I did at the age of 13, that this female is not the one. She is nothing but doubt and misdirection, a cruel twist of fate the gods cast upon us each time we breathe the air of this earth.

When he tells me they share the same birthday a year apart, I merely nod. I listen while he sings her praises, her perfection. I do not ask him how many lifetimes he searched her out. I know the answer. This is the first. He's never made that mistake before. It was always me rushing headlong into harm. I have waited millenniums for him, I can wait a few months until he figures out to whom he belongs. Now that he's met me, it shouldn't take long.

He is beautiful, this version of himself; small, delicate yet steely and tough. He is a gifted musician. His melodies are born of the ages, as if he gathered all of our previous incarnations and expressed them in sound. Why can't he see it's me? He wants me to sing for him. He wants me to write with him. Yes. Yes. Yes. Our bond strengthens. She is always in his periphery. Physically and mentally. No. No. No. The more you give your love and the more you give your trust, the more you're bound to lose.

I write lyrics over his melodies. Does he understand their meaning? We play concerts. I sing to him. We speak to reporters. He plays his guitar for me. We bare are souls on television. Our knees touch. All I see is him. He sees me. He smiles. Does he remember now? I say nothing but I fear my eyes give me away. I can please him or I can freeze him out. There is nothing I can do to make him mine. Does his mind rule his body or does his body rule his mind? I don't know.

We are so close. He answers my calls at 1:45 in the morning. He comforts me when I despair. He must know. He remembers. He tells me he loves me. I know he doesn't mean it, not in the way I do. Then he returns to her. He doesn't remember. I keep our connection hidden. I'm going mad. This goes on for years. I don't know how many clues I've left for him. I've left them in interviews, in songs, at concerts. My jealousy rages out of control. I won't share him. He is mine. He will remember. I can't do much about her because she existed to him before I did in this life. But I'm stubborn. I stake my claim. I'll fight to the last breath. This is the closest we have ever come to reunification. I'm here with the cause. I'm holding the torch. Why can't he see me?

He leaves me. I am destroyed. Why? This is worse than before we met in this life. I am 28 and am condemned to another lifetime separated from my missing half. I have to stumble through the rest of my life facing endless questions and speculation about him and his place in my world. I keep our connection hidden. I change my looks. The press proclaims me sexy. I strut and preen on stage. Does he miss me? Yes, he does. He contacts me wanting to be friends. I try. I consider telling him our story and how many times we have failed. But he needs to find out for himself. I lose myself in his world. I retreat. This is hell. Would purgatory be worse? But then our truth would die with me.

And people wonder why I'm bitter, why I'm angry, why I've chosen hate over love. I am so very tired of doing the right thing. I have tried for so long. It's all gone wrong. Love is natural and real, but not for us. I want to die, but I can't take my own life. That would end us forever. I can't let go. Is there still time?

The decades slowly pass. I would happily lose both of my legs if it meant that he could be free to come to me. I carry on. What else can I do? I focus on myself. I'm prepared to scorch the earth. It has never given me anything, I don't care who I take down with me. Burn it to the ground. I'm so tired. I'm so sick and tired. I hate this world. I hate this time. I hate humanity.I hate. I still love him. Will someone kill me please? What kind of vitriol must I spew? What childish tantrum must I throw so someone will end me, end this suffering, end this waiting for a love that never comes, that in this lifetime, doesn't exist?

Language is dead, art is dead, why am I still here? He laughs at me. Takes every opportunity to mock, humiliate and disparage me. I keep our connection hidden. How can he delve so low? He's standing on my fingers. Can he see it in his heart? When he tries to break my spirit, it won't work because there's nothing left to break anymore. So I wait for the flame of this lifetime, once so full of promise, hope and excitement; to burn down into the pool of molten misery, fizzle and sputter and smoke until it is extinguished. So we can begin again.

**Author's Note:**

> So this was something different from me. Funny, fluff and smut will return at a later date. Maybe. Here is a list of songs I used. If you're bored, you can find them in the story like a puzzle!
> 
> Accept Yourself; Black Cloud; Billy Budd; Found, Found, Found; Forgive Someone; Girl Afraid; How Soon Is Now; Hand In Glove; I Keep Mine Hidden; I Won't Share You; I Know It's Over; Paint A Vulgar Picture; Rusholme Ruffians; Rubber Ring; Still Ill; Seasick, Yet Still Docked; Speedway; Tomorrow; Why Don't You Find Out For Yourself; What Difference Does It Make; You Just Haven't Earned It Yet Baby
> 
> There might be others in there that I've overlooked.


End file.
